A/N: Okay you get an extra this week because I got excited by all the fluffiness. More to come next chapter with a full day at the Zoo (likely to be a long chapter!)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Distracted

Harry:

Harry is distracted. There are many good reasons for Harry to be distracted—the events of the summer, the endless stream of stares and whispers, and the unexpected (and unwanted) change to his class schedule—and yet all he can seem to think about are the dreams.

They torment him. Plaguing his sleep and his waking thoughts with whispers and yearnings, driving him to distraction. So much so that Hermione has to ask him a question three times before he realises she's talking to him.

'Sorry, what?' he asks, blinking and trying to focus.

She sighs at him. 'Nothing,' she says, shaking her head. 'What's wrong with you tonight?'

'Nothing,' he says, slouching down in his seat and dropping his gaze. 'Can't sleep.'

The irritation vanishes from her face and she offers him a sympathetic smile. 'Nightmares?' she asks softly.

A wry smile twists Harry's lips. 'Uh, yeah, something like that. Look, I'm gonna go for a walk, okay?'

She nods. 'Remember you've got your zoo excursion tomorrow, so don't stay up too late.'

At least she knows better than to bother reminding him about curfew.

He gives her a wave and trudges out the portrait hole.

The corridors are dark and quiet. Too quiet. His mind starts to wander. Flashes of skin, hot breath, the smell of lemons and honey, and a warmth that pools in Harry's insides. He shakes his head, tries to clear himself of the thoughts.

The pent up frustration is driving him mad, and he wanders around the castle, barely paying attention to where he's going and wishing desperately that the quidditch season had started already.

At least then he'd have an outlet for all the nervous energy keeping him awake at night. He runs a hand through his hair, and instantly his mind flashes back to one of the dreams. Soft caresses and touches and Harry groans, scrubbing at his face.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' he mutters into his hands, for the hundredth or so time.

Truth is, he knows exactly what's—

Two boys crash around the corner, landing at Harry's feet in a tangle of flying limbs and grunts of pain, scaring the absolute shit out of him. His heart pounds and it takes a moment for his vision to clear—flashes of a different kind assault him. Red and grey and a rubble strewn street obscuring his vision.

A grunt of pain breaks through the momentary panic, and Harry focus's just in time to see Malfoy get punched in the face.

'Hey!' Harry yells.

The boy, a Ravanclaw, looks up in surprise. Malfoy shoves the boy hard, his palms slamming into his chest and sending him tumbling backwards. Malfoy scrambles backwards and to his feet just as three more Ravenclaw's round the corner to join the first.

'Get back here Malfoy you slimy snake!'.

Malfoy watches them, cool eyes narrow and hard. 'Come on then,' he growls at the Ravenclaws.

Harry takes a step forward. 'What the hell is going on?' he asks.

For a moment there's quiet, the six of them standing off. The four Ravenclaws, Draco to one side—the wall at his back, and Harry watching them. The boys seem to waver at the sight of Harry.

'Stay out of this, Potter,' Malfoy growls, and swipes blood away from the split in his lip.

Obviously deciding that Harry isn't a threat, the leader of the Ravenclaws steps forward. 'You're gonna pay for last year, Malfoy.'

Malfoy's muscles tense, and Harry makes to grab him a second too late. Malfoy launches himself at the Ravenclaws, slamming into the group and sending two of them sprawling. Somehow he stays on his feet and takes a swing at a third.

The fourth boy grabs him from behind, pinning his arms, and the lead boy is back on his feet and hits Malfoy hard in the gut, but before he can take a second swing Harry is there, catching his arm and twisting it back.

The boy cries out, spinning to face Harry and trying to get his arm free. Harry clamps down and punches him in the face. Hard.

'Fuck,' he swears, shaking out his hand.

He turns, takes a single step toward the boy who has Malfoy pinned, and is shoved forward. He cops a fist the side of his head and sees stars. He swings blindly, his glasses coming askew, and blinks hard. His fist connects with something solid, and a grunt of pain echoes next to his ears. A body bumps into his and there's a low growl as Harry is pulled backwards. Air moves in front of his face and Harry has the distinct impression he's just avoided a punch to the face.

Malfoy's voice barks a spell next to his head, and suddenly Harry can see again, his glasses back in place. He's pulled out of the way, again by the back of his robes, as one of the Ravenclaw's launches at them. Malfoy sticks out a foot, tripping the boy and Harry has to admire the quick way he's back on his feet.

They're surrounded. Malfoy lets go of Harry's robes and Harry swings around at the same time as Malfoy. Warmth presses against Harry's back and they stand there, back to back and panting. There's a pause in the fight and Harry takes the respite to catch his breath.

'You really wanna keep going?' he asks the two guys facing him.

A sneer flashes across one's face, but the other one has noticed Harry's wand (now grasped firmly in Harry's hand, though pointed at the floor—for now) and reaches out to stop his friend from pushing forward. Behind Harry, Draco already has his wand out, and Harry can see the thoughts flash across the Ravenclaws face.

These boys were fourth, maybe fifth years. Harry and Malfoy were both older, stronger, and more experienced. Particularly when it came to magic fights.

'You've made a big mistake, Potter.'

'I'm just evening the score a little,' Harry bites back. 'Four on one, little unfair don't you think?'

'Tch,' the boy scoffs, but he's still eyeing off Harry's wand. 'Whatever, let's go.'

The boys storm off back the way they came, and Harry turns around to eye off Draco.

'Making friends?'

Draco rolls his eyes, tucking his wand back up his sleeve. He flicks Harry a scowl.

'I told you to stay out of it.'

Harry shrugs. 'Like I said, just evening the score.'

Draco raises a brow and then winces. Along with the split lip, he has a cut across his brow and the start of a black eye. Harry leans forward to inspect it, frowning.

'Looks like it hurts,' he says sympathetically.

Draco goes still, his gaze—fixed on Harry's—is completely unreadable. His breath washes over Harry's face and Harry's throat tightens as he realises how close they are. His breath catches and he tries desperately to think of anything except his dreams.

He swallows and takes a step backwards. 'Sorry,' he says, but it comes out kind of croaky and he drops his gaze.

'S'alright,' Draco mutters. 'Thanks, I guess.'

Harry glances back up again, and offers a nervous grin. 'Guess we make a good team after all,' he says.

A small smirk lifts Malfoy's lips. Harry's expecting some half-smart retort about how Malfoy makes everyone better…but it doesn't come. Instead, his eyes drop to Harry's jaw and he frowns.

The adrenaline that was starting to fade kicks back up a notch, and Harry's heart thuds painfully in his chest as Malfoy reaches up and brushes a finger across the bruise that's already starting to form on Harry's jaw.

'Looks like it hurts,' he says, repeating Harry.

He drops his hand, grey eyes flicking back up to Harry's face. He's close again, closer than Harry had been before, and Harry has to concentrate on breathing.

'Yeah,' he says. Whispers. 'I…' he licks his lips and tries again. 'Could've been worse…if you hadn't…'

He's not sure what exactly he's trying to say, only that he's having trouble focusing on anything except Malfoy's lips.

Malfoy blinks, and a strange look crosses his face. Part realisation, wariness, anticipation and, yes, wanting; and god, now Harry really can't breathe.

The soft kiss, pressed lightly to the corner of Harry's mouth, next to the bruise, breaks what little self control Harry has. He pushes back, grabbing at Draco's shoulders and holding him in place before he can pull away, his own kiss hot, and fierce and desperate.

Malfoy doesn't pull away. Doesn't shove Harry back. Doesn't try to punch him. His fingers dig in at Harry's waist and his response is every bit as fiery.

'I thought,' Harry gasps pulling back just long enough to ask the question nagging at the back of his mind. 'That you didn't approve of my "silly little crush".'

Malfoy growls, and it vibrates through Harry's lips. 'I don't,' he says and kisses him. Hard.

'Little contradictory, don't you think?'

Malfoy pulls back to give Harry a pointed glare. 'Potter,' he says, 'shut up.'

They stumble into the wall, and Harry grins and happily complies. Malfoy is a strange mixture of soft and fierce, trailing light kisses across Harry's bruising jaw, before coming back to Harry's mouth and snogging him soundly.

Whatever they're doing—there'll be time to think about it later, after they've come to their senses—is over entirely too soon in Harry's opinion, as the kisses, the strong hands clasped around his waist, and the comfortable warmth spreading between them is all yanked away.

Harry is left gasping and off balance and completely alone as Draco Malfoy disappears down the corridor. Confusion sullies the moment, and Harry is left with nothing but the pooling want at the base of his spine and a lot more new material for his dreams.

He runs a hand through his hair and leans his head back against the wall. 'Fuck,' he says.

Hermione's words come back to him. 'Remember you've got your zoo excursion tomorrow, so don't stay up too late.'

'Fuck,' he says again and closes his eyes.

How the hell is going to keep his cool around Malfoy for an entire day now?